


A Visit to the Doctor's

by scarcelyMischievous



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Acidic burns, Gen, Pre-Paper Bag Flug, Probably been done before but whatevsss, toxic waste
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 14:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14936150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarcelyMischievous/pseuds/scarcelyMischievous
Summary: Flug wasn't always the nervous wreck employed by Black Hat. He used to do more freelance work, villains flocking to his lab from around the globe, practically begging for weapon commissions. He was well revered and completely independent.That is, until a hero found his way to Flug's doorstep and ruined everything.





	A Visit to the Doctor's

“Listen, I already told you that I can’t make progress on your commission if you keep demanding status updates!” Dr. Flug yelled into his phone.

 

He had nearly threw his wrench across the lab when he received the call. He already had a long list of weapons he had to make, a list that was still constantly growing. As much as he wanted to get through it swiftly, his clients didn’t understand how much time went into a single project. If they did, they wouldn’t be acting like the world was going to end tomorrow and they needed the weapons to join in on the destruction.

 

Flug impatiently rubbed his temples. “Yes, I understand you need it right away,” he was saying. “...No, I’m literally working on it right now, why, don’t believe me? I suppose you want me to send you a picture of my progress? That couldn’t possibly be intercepted by some asshole hacker vigilante! Just like this call couldn’t possibly be listened in on!...Yes that was sarcasm, you--”

 

He forced himself to take in a calming breath. He couldn’t get so snappy with clients, no matter how stressed he was or how aggravating they were. He had already had his life threatened a numerous amount of times because of his insolence. Of course, they were only threats; no one who valued his work and his brain really wanted him dead. Still, with how sporadic some of his clients’ destructive urges were, Flug knew it was unwise to push his luck.

 

So he stayed quiet as his client on the phone finished voicing their concerns, before ending the conversation with a simple, “All right. I’ll have it done soon.”

 

Once the call was over, his attention went back to the project at hand. It was a dart gun meant to take the water components of a living being and control it enough to drown them without even getting them near any tangible bodies of water. Flug wasn’t sure if this would work on someone who didn’t have those average human components, so he could only hope that his client didn’t have to deal with any other-worldly rivals.

 

No sooner did Flug begin mixing a liquid formula to dip the dart needles in, he received another phone call. With a resisted urge to scream, Flug glanced over at the called ID. “Private Number.” Flug ignored it. If someone really wanted his services, they’d meet him here at his lab. That was just the way it worked. If a person really wanted to see him, they’d find a way to locate him. There hasn’t been an exception yet. So the private number would go ignored until the called actually decided to show up.

 

So naturally when half an hour later his security system alerted him of a presence on the premises, Flug assumed it was the mysterious caller.

 

“Computer, access exterior security feeds,” Flug commanded, turning away from his workbench to view the massive monitor behind him. As requested, it displayed multiple windows of each exterior security camera. It only took a glance to realize that there was no one to be seen.

 

Flug’s eyes narrowed, and he slid his goggles to the top of his head to get a better look. This wasn’t a good sign. “Computer, activate--”

 

Before he could finish, the computer started sparking dangerously and the monitor went berserk. He stood up and was about to approach it to see what was wrong. He didn’t get two steps closer when a giant heap of metal was dropped right in front of him. Upon further inspection, Flug quickly identified it as a huge and vital part of the core of his main computer. He looked up in alarm from where it had fallen, and who he saw didn’t thrill him. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

 

It was one of the unnecessarily glorified “superheroes”...What was his name? Circuit-Man or something like that? Flug recalled all the research he’s done on this guy, which wasn’t much. He knew he was an android, and a total Terminator-wannabe with his shitty thrift store leather jacket. He looked down at Flug with a victorious grin. “Hello, Doctor. I hope you do walk-in appointments,” he announced.

 

Flug’s glare was void of amusement. The hell was it with heroes and terrible one-liners? “How did you find me?” he asked.

 

Circuits let out a laugh. “Well buddy, I’m sure you know that just about anyone will talk with the right amount of persuasion!”

 

So either bribery or torture involving a past client.  _ Great.  _ Flug blinked when he realized Circuits was still talking. “Now, I gotta be honest with you, Doc. You really had everyone baffled. We thought every villain was an evil genius! But…”

 

Jesus, Flug thought it was only villains who did irrelevant monologues. Flug tuned him out and tried to think of what he could use against him in the section of the lab he was in. The long ranged weapons were on the wall next to him, but they were just out of reach. He could try to be quick while Circuits was busy, but he wouldn’t have long…

 

Whilst keeping a steady eye on the android, Flug carefully inched toward the weapons wall. It was going fairly smoothly, with how much Circuits was distracting himself. He could do this. Flug held in his breath as he reached toward the nearest weapon--

 

And then his phone rang.

 

Circuits cut off from his monologue, suddenly aware of what Flug was doing. Without wasting another moment, Flug grabbed a handful of the nearest weapons, stuffing some in his lab coat pockets. Flug tumbled away just shy of a huge blast emitted from one of Circuit’s hand cannons. Some of the weapons still on the wall probably wouldn’t turn out as lucky. Without wasting a spare thought, Flug began to run.

 

Circuits was certainly faster than him, and his blasts were determined to block his path. However, it was doubtful that the android had downloaded the layout of lab. Flug was the only one who knew the place completely by heart, an advantage he really needed right now.

 

He made a sharp turn around a corner into a small room. Quickly, throwing aside a rug on the floor revealed a hatch in the floor. Flug could hear Circuits getting closer, urging him to move even faster. Soon, Flug was in the hatch, shutting and locking it quickly behind him.

 

Flug’s heart was racing, and we wanted so badly to just take a second to catch his breath. However, he knew that with the rug out of the way, nothing was hiding the hatch he was hiding in. If he waited, that might give Circuits the chance to break through. So, Flug sucked it up and started crawling.

 

The passageway he was in was built similar to air vents. There were multiple twists and turns, each leading to a different part of the facility. Admittedly, at this point, Flug wasn’t sure what his plan of action at this point. Perhaps the only thing to do was to hide until Circuits got frustrated and left. That sounded too hopeful, and who knew how long the cyborg could go on for. Flug certainly didn’t want to find out by being trapped under here for who knew how long.

 

He tried to go through more options, but something wasn’t letting him concentrate fully. What was it? The paranoia of getting caught? Flug looked around, eyes narrowing. He was used to working under pressure, so that might not be it. And it didn’t seem like Circuits was on his trail at the moment. Flug tried to figure it out, when he made out a faint beeping sound.

 

He raised an eyebrow, growing tense. Was that Circuits? Was he on his way? Flug was about to move, but the beeping got louder, until Flug realized that it was much closer than he anticipated. He felt all over his lab coat until he reached the back and felt something, straining to look over his shoulder and identify what it was-- A tracker?

 

Flug’s eyes widened.  _ “A la verga--” _

 

Suddenly, there was a huge crash above Flug, and before he knew it, he was being lifted harshly by his collar. 

 

“There you are,” Circuits said with a grin, flinging the scientist carelessly. Flug collided harshly against some metal barrels, letting out a groan as he did. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision which was disoriented by the impact. Once he realized which room he was in though, he felt like his heart skipped a beat. 

 

Very carefully organized barrels of a variety of toxic wastes, all lined up neatly against all four walls.

 

Flames appeared underneath Circuits’s shoes, and he began to hover over Flug, all high and mighty. “Look at all of this dangerous material, and all in one place as well. Not very smart planning on your part, is it doctor?”

 

Actually it  _ was,  _ since this room was specifically designed to withstand any sort of chemical outbreak, or at least the ones Flug had stored here. He looked in a panic towards the door, seeing that it didn’t look like it was damaged or forced open. It was still closed, in fact. Circuits must have overridden the entry code, just as he presumably did when first getting into the lab.

 

There was no time to lose. He didn’t want to wait to see what damage Circuits could do in a room like this. Reaching into his lab coat for any weapon that hadn’t fallen out, he immediately aimed and shot it at the hero.

 

Circuits flinched in surprised, and for a brief moment Flug was filled with hope. But that all soon drained out of him when he realized what he shot the android with: That damn weapon he had been building only moments previous to the attack. He had only accounted for the water content in a human, not any other liquids that might be running through the android.

 

Flug was afraid to look Circuits in the eye, and immediately regretted when he did. Circuits’s eyes started glowing red, and he had a wicked smirk on his face. He pulled out the dart and carelessly flicked it to the side. “I’m sorry, was that supposed to do something?” he asked teasingly.

 

Flug tried to reach into his coat for another weapon, but Circuits was faster. With a shot from his hand cannon, Flug lost his grip on the weapon he had began to pull out. Another blast incapacitated the hand completely.

 

The doctor tried not to let out a scream, gripping onto his hand and examining it quickly. It looked badly damaged, and it hurt to even twitch his fingers, but it was still there, and that was something, right? Any sense of optimism was the only thing he could hold onto now.

 

Which lasted about two seconds before Circuits shot at one of the barrels. A steady flow of a sickly luminescent green liquid came out, a few droplets splashing onto Flug’s labcoat. He quickly shed it off and threw it to the side, where it was quickly getting eaten away by the acid. 

 

“You’re insane!” Flug spat up at Circuits, slowly backing up to avoid the toxic waste coming his way. 

 

Circuits merely laughed. “Insane? No doctor, I’m merely a hero ridding the world of evil one villain at a time.”

 

The last time Flug checked, heroes weren’t so big on sadism. Most were ‘merciful’ in the sense that they usually just threw villains in some jail. “If you were really doing this to be heroic, you could have shot me and had this over in seconds,” Flug challenged.

 

Circuits shrugged. “Maybe. But why end it so quickly when I could watch the flesh melt off your bones until your a worthless pile of nothingness? That seems much more entertaining.”

 

God, he  _ was  _ insane.

 

Flug wanted to fight back, to do something, but any of his remaining weapons he had, he realized with horror, were in his now destroyed lab coat. Circuits grinned, knowing how helpless Flug was right now. “Now, scream for me, doctor.”

 

Before he knew it, a more violent blast was aimed at another barrel, and the splash had a much wider range. To Flug’s horror, some actually got on his skin, and holy hell, it  _ burned.  _ It got on his arms, burned through his shirt, and even got on his face. He couldn’t help the scream of agony he let out as he felt it eat away at his flesh. He wanted desperately for anything to relieve it, but it was evident that there wasn’t any escape.

 

He placed his hands over his face, stumbling back, too engulfed in the burning pain to be aware of Circuits’s laughter in the background. He fell back hard against another barrel, still letting out strangled screams. The part of him that was still aware of his surroundings was wondering why Circuits wasn’t making another move at this point. Was the sick bastard really basking in the moment that much?

 

He couldn’t bare to even try and look up, try to distinguish what was going on outside of this torture. He didn’t want to see the look on Circuits’s face, and he didn’t want to give him even more satisfaction at seeing the look on his own face and whatever damage has been done to it. So he stayed seated on the floor, curling in on himself, tears now running down his face as well as the burns.

 

For a few more moments that felt like an eternity, there was nothing else happening, no more gloating from Circuits, as far as Flug could tell. Still, he was too afraid to uncover his face. Suddenly, Flug felt himself being lifted up. He bit back another yell and the pressure being put on some of his burns, but he realized something strange. This wasn’t Circuits, it couldn’t be. Flug couldn’t feel any hard metal underneath a flesh exterior, this was a real person. 

 

“I was almost offended when you didn’t answer any of my calls,” said whoever had picked him up. It was an unfamiliar voice, deep and ragged. “Although it seems you’ve been busy, so I won’t get too mad.”

 

The person began walking, and though Flug wanted to protest, he couldn’t bring himself to speak actual words. And so the other continued. “I’ll give you some time to heal, and then we’ll talk about your new employment.” Flug made a sound between confusion and indignation. The person chuckled at that. “Well surely you must be aware that your current lab is practically in complete ruins now. Its location is assuredly public knowledge to those impudent ‘heroes’ by now as well. Besides, you’ll be of a much better use working under me than doing anything else.”

 

Flug groaned, barely able to comprehend what the other was saying, only knowing that he wasn’t liking it. Was he in any condition to argue? Not at all. He felt weak, and the pain had drained so much out of energy out of him, he was barely hanging on to his consciousness. He weakly moved his hands, just to see if he could catch a glimpse of whoever was taking him away from his years of hard work and independence. 

 

His vision was blurry, so he couldn’t make out much. The figure was more of a silhouette than anything, absolutely filled with darkness. The only true distinguishing feature Flug could make out before he completely passed out was a black hat atop the figure’s head. 

**Author's Note:**

> Damn so yeah, I wrote a majority of this last year during a road trip to Vegas, half-heartedly finished it recently.


End file.
